


le désir

by AwkwardFortuna



Category: The Old Guard (Comics), The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Angst, Drabble, F/M, Horny!Booker, M/M, Romance, Short One Shot, Touch-Starved, and also Andromache, not much actually happens, so idk if I should change the rating to T or not?, this is actually just a fic about Booker being horny for Copley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:34:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25818913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwkwardFortuna/pseuds/AwkwardFortuna
Summary: Booker wakes up with his dick hot and heavy in his grasp.Wet and painfully red.Yearning to be held in the hands of someone other than himself.Copley's name is on the tip of his tongue, a subtle moan that works its way into existence from whatever smutty hellscape Booker had been dreaming of.
Relationships: Booker | Sebastian le Livre & James Copley, Booker | Sebastien le Livre/James Copley, Past Andromache of Scythia/Booker | Sebastien le Livre
Comments: 6
Kudos: 41





	le désir

It all starts with a hug from Andy. 

It's not her fault. Of course, it isn't, none of it ever is. It's just that, Booker hasn't held anyone in his arms for quite some time now and his body reacts like a drowning man being offered a rope. Besides, it's not like the feel of her body pressed up against his is anything new, they've found comfort in one another before. In fact, Booker's lost count of how many quiet fumblings in the dark he and Andy have been a part of over the centuries. Except, this time it's different. It's been four years since he last saw her, four years since his exile, and he _misses_ her.

Unfortunately, his body does too.

He's ashamed of the way his skin flushes from the contact, the way his abdomen tightens with anticipation for _more_. There is a needy and ugly thing that lives deep inside of him, and right now, it is doing its best to claw its way out. This need of his, this hunger for contact, is something that he's tried to keep a tight leash on. But living with Copley makes the taming of his desires all the more difficult.

Andy raises an eyebrow at him, amusement playing at the corner of her lips. She glances down at Booker's shifting trousers then back up to the mortification on his very red and very sweaty face.

"You horny, Book?"

He wants to pull his hair out and scream.

"T-that's um. No. Are you?" He stumbles over his words, face reddening even more from his poor attempts at denial and deflection.

Andy laughs at him, she pats him on the shoulder and shakes her head. There's a gentle flush across her cheeks. It's something that Booker rarely gets to see on her. He supposes, in a way, that he's missed that about her too.

She gives him a sly look. "I thought you and Copley had an arrangement?"

"W-what?"

"Nile said you two looked pretty cozy here, so I just figured..."

No. Absolutely not. Sure, Booker's thought of it before _(he is only a man after all,)_ and Copley is easy to look at ( _more than easy to look at if he's being honest with himself,)_ and incredibly kind and- He clears his throat, glares at Andy and gives her a hard _"No."_

"Why not? You don't like him?"

"I-it's not that. He's just...he's too..." Nice. He's too nice and Booker's too old, too broken, too ruined to be with the likes of Copley who, as far as Booker knows, has never once betrayed a family member or a friend. "...He's not my type."

"Liar. I've seen the way you look at him and the way he looks at you."

Booker splutters, trying hard to think of a valid response but Andy just laughs even harder. She pats him on the shoulder and leans against him (which is _not_ helping his predicament,) and whispers into the shell of his ear, fueling the desire in his gut. 

_God, he's missed her._

"You best get that under control Book, he's coming this way."

The sheer panic on his face is enough to set Andy into another fit of laughter. 

*

Booker wakes up with his dick hot and heavy in his grasp. Wet and painfully red. Yearning to be held in the hands of someone other than himself. Copley's name is on the tip of his tongue, a subtle moan that works its way into existence from whatever smutty hellscape Booker had been dreaming of. 

Damnit. Forget what he's said earlier, this is _all_ Andy's fault. If she hadn't of planted the idea of him and Copley in his head, then he wouldn't be sitting up in his bed with an aching dick in his hands right now. Fuck. Fuck. 

_Fuck._

He's too old for this shit.

*

The dreams don't stop. If anything, they get worse. More visceral, more explicit. Booker is haunted by the image of Copley writhing beneath him, above him, beside him. Talking dirty to him, asking him if he likes it when-  
  
"What about New York?" Copley's question shocks him into the present. 

Booker shifts one leg over the other and tries his damn hardest to concentrate on what Copley is saying about the task at hand despite the tightening of his pants, but it's too damn hard. He feels hot all over. Antsy too. Like he could jump out of his skin at any given moment and Copley looks good. Too good. He always does, immaculately dressed with not one hair out of place. In contrast to Booker, who feels as though he is always looking like shit _(He certainly feels like it.)_

"Where in New York?" Booker grunts, looking anywhere in the office but Copley.

"Well, there's a job in Rochester I was thinking of proposing to Andy," he hums while sticking a piece of paper to his cork board with a tac. "There's plenty of people there. The gang would be anonymous in the crowd and-"

"No," Booker grunts, uncrossing one leg over the other.

Years ago, back in the 90's, Nicky and Joe had been sent out on a mission to do some good but it had all gone to shit. Booker's not particularly aware of the why's and hows of it, but Rochester is a place they've kept away from ever since then. "Not unless we absolutely have to."

"Alright. What about New Jersey?"

"New Jersey we can-" Booker stops himself, he is constantly forgetting that he is not a part of the team anymore. Not now at least, not for another 96 or so years and that, thankfully, causes him to deflate just a little bit, but not completely. "... _They_ , can do."

"Good to know, thank you," Copley sticks a green pin through the giant map laid out across his desk. He has to bend over slightly to do it, revealing a very nice and very pert- Booker shakes the thoughts from his head.

The next time he sees Andy, he's going to curse her name.

"Are you okay, Booker?" Copley asks, a worried tilt in his voice. "Do you want some water?"

"No. I'm fine. Thanks." He rubs at his face and crosses his legs again, begging whatever god that exists in the universe to grant him some relief.

"What other places were you thinking of?"

*

When Andy comes to visit them again, she takes one look at Booker and _laughs._

"Oh Booker, baby, you really need to tell him."

He'd strangle her if he could.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if it ends abruptly, this was originally part of a much longer fic that I had an idea for between Copley/Booker but I've since scrapped it, hence why it's so short. 
> 
> But I hope ya'll could enjoy it/Be entertained by it!


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